MOD Master of Disguise
by A.C. Lucius
Summary: After having a nightmare about a deceased friend, Clyde encounters a mysterious beautiful girl... Character death
1. Nightmare Anatomy

**Please don't be angry, I know I should've finished my other stories before starting something new, but the calling was there. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this one, I managed to keep the Goth out of it this time, but now there's some slight macabre. R&R as some of like to say...**

**-A.C. Lucius**

It's always the same. It's always so terrifyingly vivid. I always see myself walking down the stairs to the boys' locker room at school. I watch as my feet move downward step after step, my eyes remain trained on the ground the whole time. Once I reach the bottom, I see the patterns of the linoleum tiled floor moving past me as I continue toward my destination. Then the sickening feeling in my pit of my stomach. Like that feeling you get when you drop suddenly and the fall startles you. This feeling is a thousand times worse.

I stopped abruptly at the threshold of the locker room, my eyes widened. I could feel my heart accelerating as I took in the sight of blood on the floor. Suddenly, the scenery rushes by me as I quickly follow the trail of blood to its source. It will always stand in history as the single most terrifying moment in my entire life. I don't need to exaggerate, it really is and nothing will ever make me forget.

The trail of blood lead to one of the changing stalls of the boys' locker room. It was a mess, there was blood spattered everywhere. My eyes landed on the body laying in a naked bloody heap on the floor.

Kevin… Oh God, Kevin! Not Kevin!

I screamed. Tears rolled down my cheeks hot and fast. I dropped to my knees next to my dead friend, cradled him in my arms and cried. I started screaming in between straggled sobs as I continued to cradle him.

"HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!"

I woke with a start and sat up quickly in bed. Breathing heavily, I could still hear my screams echoing in my head. Goddamn it, I hate that dream. What could've possibly happened to trigger it? I haven't even thought about Kevin in the longest time, why the fuck would I start dreaming about him now?

Looking at the clock on my nightstand, I realized it was five o' clock. It was a whole half hour before I needed to be up and I knew I wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon. I threw off my bed sheets and made my way to the bathroom. I closed my eyes for a brief moment as I splashed cold water on my face and I could still see it. I started violently and looked up at the mirror. The gory scene faded as my reflection came into view. My face was dripping wet and my mouth was slightly agape as I panted.

"Get it together, Clyde!" I reprimanded myself angrily, "That was three years ago, you're a big boy now or do you want to be forever known as the crying little fag?"

After giving myself the angry pep talk, I hurriedly finished getting ready and made my way to the kitchen.

I was startled to find my mom sitting at the kitchen table, I didn't know anyone else was up yet. My mom just sat there in her bath robe sipping at a cup of coffee as she read the newspaper. She looked at me from her seat at the table as she noticed me digging through the refrigerator.

"Clyde honey?" she said.

I perked up from my place behind the refrigerator door and turned to look at her.

"Yeah mom?" I replied.

"Is everything okay?" she asked concernedly and placed the newspaper down on the table.

"Yeah," I lied dragging out the word, "Why?"

"Well it's just that you're up awful early today, and just a few moments ago I heard you talking to yourself in the bathroom…"

I suddenly felt my eyes stinging with unshed tears. Goddamn it mom…

"Look, it's nothing," I said as I once again began to preoccupy myself with the refrigerator, "I just had that weird dream again…"

"Oh, sweetie!"

"Mom, don't. Please, I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh, alright." she sighed slowly picking up the newspaper, "But you do know that I'm here if you want to talk, right?"

I sighed. "Right…"

It goes without saying that I made it to school early today. I'll be the first to say that I'm not the most punctual person there is, so this came as surprise to my friends. Weariness suddenly set in as I trudged to my locker and opened it. I was barely aware of Craig, Token, and Tweek fixing their incredulous stares on me. You'd have thought I grew a second head with the way they were staring at me.

"Who are you and what have you done with Clyde?" Tweek demanded.

"What?" I asked, mildly confused.

"Ah hah!" he shouted triumphantly and pointed an accusing finger at me, "I knew it, you're an alien who abducted Clyde and changed your form to switch places with him!" Sometimes I wonder about how Tweek acquired such a creative imagination.

"Wrong on so many accounts." I tell him bluntly.

"Okay then _Clyde_,"- he made air quotes with his hands- "then how do you explain-"

"I'm not a fucking alien, Tweek! And if I was, why would I tell you?"

My quirky caffeine addicted friend looked thoughtful as he tried to come up with a retort. While he was busy trying to concoct a conspiracy theory, Craig decided to cut in with his ever tactful diplomacy.

"Today must be a cold day in Hell if you're actually on time for a change." Craig deadpanned.

"What are you, my mother?" I shot at him.

Of course he had to reply by flipping me off, that's just Craig for you.

"Is that my cue to yield to the awesome power of your middle finger and bend over?"

I walked away from him before he could reply. It was the same old shit as always, but today I wasn't in the mood to put up with any of it. Token caught up with me as I made my way towards our homeroom. Token's cool, he knows when to back off and quit pissing around. He just seems to know when I'm being my usual whiny self and when something's actually wrong, he's my best buddy.

"Hey man," said Token as he put his arm around me, "you alright?"

Why is it that every time someone asks me that I get the sudden urge to burst into tears? I managed not to cry though as my eyes started to sting again. Token was just as concerned as my mom, which I do appreciate, but I didn't want to get all sentimental in front the entire school. I just returned his gesture with a quick bro hug and walked on ahead of him into the classroom.

Before I knew it, it was lunch time and my mood had improved considerably. Having woken up early today, I had time to prepare myself a hot breakfast and make tacos to put in my lunch bag for later. I was really looking forward to it, tacos always put me in a good mood.

I took my seat at the lunch table between Token and Tweek and started chowing down my tacos. Oh my gosh! Talk about a spirit lifter, nothing beats the meaty and savory taste of a taco. And there it was again, my friends were staring at me with that "oh my gosh, Clyde just grew a second head!" look. I paused in mid-bite and looked to my left and my right at the two of them.

"What?" I asked through a mouth full of taco.

"Clyde!" Tweek exclaimed, "You're back! So did the aliens take you to their mother ship?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh no! The aliens erased your memory!"

"Right…" I answered somewhat weirded out. Seriously, sometimes I worry about him. I leaned towards Token and muttered, "Is he on some new medication?"

Token laughed and replied, "I think he's just happy to see you back to normal."

"Well!" said Craig appearing out of nowhere and setting down his lunch tray, "Looks like the King Bitch finally got over his man period."

I took another bite of my taco, making sure to make a loud crunching noise as I did so, and retorted in between chewing, "What was that, Craig? You need to speak up, I can't hear you over my taco."

He flipped me off, how Craig-like of him.

Having achieved a sense of normalcy, and being in higher spirits after putting my lunch happily away in my stomach, I made my way back to my locker. I was in the middle of switching out books to prepare for study hall when a feminine voice caught me off guard.

"Hey Clyde." the voice said seductively (at least I'd like to think so).

I turned to face the source of this sexy voice. I was not disappointed. The girl standing next to me was this beautiful raven haired Asian chick. I mean, wow! She was a knock out! Her hair just tumbled down her shoulders in dark shiny waves, and she had dappled freckles across the bridge of her nose and the apples of her cheeks. She kind of reminded me of Lucy Lui she was that hot.

"How do you know my name?" I asked (I'm not very tactful when talking to girls) as I ogled her body. She had a really nice body too, and she was showing it off with this semi see-through powder blue slip dress. It was like-and I shit you not!-she was putting on a show just for me. She had her hands on her hips and she curved her body in a way that she knew was sexy.

She giggled tinklingly (once again: HOT!) and said, "Everyone knows who you are, Clyde. You're on the football team."

I had to swallow a lump in my throat and give a little cough before I replied, "Well, I don't know who you are. Can you tell me your name?" Smooth Donovan, real smooth; now she's going to think you're a douche.

"You can call me M.O.D." she bit her lip bashfully, "I love a man in a letterman jacket."

"Well, Maude, I love a woman with good taste."

Maude gave another sexy little giggle and moved closer to me. All my thoughts literally went south as an uncomfortable bulge formed in the front of my pants. She wrapped her arms around my waist and gave my ass a quick little caress before she pulled away and said, "We should totally hang out some time, see you around…"

With that, she turned and walked away blowing a kiss at me as she left.

"Yeah, later…" I said waving feebly.

Once Maude had left, I turned my attention back to rifling through my locker. I was five minutes late for study hall and needed to hurry. I quickly did a last minute check to make sure I had everything.

_Homework? Check. Notebooks? Check. Pencils? Check. MP3 Player? Hey, where's my MP3 Player?_

Panic stricken, I quickly started turning my locker inside out searching for my MP3 Player. I checked my backpack, every last inch of my locker, and my pockets. Nothing. It was gone… I wanted to cry, suddenly my bad start to the day made perfect sense. It was an omen, a bad one. If it were just any old MP3 Player I wouldn't have cared, but this one was special. It was an I Pod with an R2 D2 decal on it, it use to belong to Kevin. A special keepsake from a lost friend.

I checked my pockets once more, this time checking my back pockets as well. I felt a folded up piece of paper in my right back pocket and took it out to look at it. It was a note:

_Hey Clyde,_

_No hard feelings, I really do think you're hot. If you want your MP3 Player back, meet me at Sizzler's at 7PM. I'll be wearing a red dress._

_XOXO,_

_M.O.D._

THAT FUCKING CUNT MADE OFF WITH MY MP3 PLAYER!


	2. Better Days

I barged my way into the library and stormed up the aisle past all the tables. A few people turned and looked at me, but I determinedly avoided eye contact with anyone. I made my way to the obscured table in the far back of the library. Everyone at the table started-Tweek gave a little yelp-as I slammed my backpack down on the table and threw myself into the seat next to Token. I was pretty certain that my nostrils were flaring as I took several angry breaths through my nose.

"Whoa dude, what's wrong with you?" asked Token.

"Everything!" I exclaimed, "My whole entire day just went completely south!" I was so infuriated that I started grabbing at my hair. A few people at the other end of the table starting shushing me.

"Okay, okay, we got it!" Token whispered frantically, "Keep it down, will you? You're going to get us in trouble."

"I'm serious Token," I continued, not paying him any mind, "there was this girl, you see and-"

"Clyde! Shush!" he said now desperately making downward motions with his hands, "You're going to get us thrown out…"

"There's no reasoning with him, Token." Craig said at normal volume in his monotone voice, "You have to use a firm hand with this one."

"What the hell do you know?" I shot at him.

"You mind closing your pussy hole?" Craig replied unfazed, "Seriously, stick a tampon in it and call it a day."

I didn't really know how to respond to that so I reluctantly kept my mouth shut as I was told. After a few minutes of quietly seething to myself, I managed to regain some of my composure. I took a few deep breaths and started over again, albeit with my teeth clenched to keep from shouting.

"Okay," I began, "so there was this girl…"

"Ah, yes," Craig interjected sardonically, "we recall there being mention of a girl…"

"and she was really hot…" I continued pointedly ignoring him.

"Whoa, _really_ hot?" interrupted Token, "How hot are we talking about?"

"She was playboy-centerfold-naked-on-the-beach hot, okay? Quit interrupting!"

"Damn, _that_ hot?"

"Token!"

"Alright," he said holding his hands up in mock surrender, "my bad…"

"So this really cute girl started putting the moves on me and without my realizing it, she stole my MP3 Player." I finished flatly.

My friends all just stared at me blankly for a few moments before exchanging looks at one another and bursting out laughing. I can't say I wasn't expecting that reaction, but I was hurt nonetheless. Thanks a lot guys, thanks a lot.

"Hey, hey," said Token noticing my hurt expression, "it's no big deal, you can just get a new one."

Et tu, Token?

I sighed, I should've known they wouldn't understand. "Never mind…"

I gathered my things and got up to leave. I shouldered my backpack as I made my way towards the library exit. It wasn't until I was on my way out the door that a hand clapped me on the shoulder. I looked back at Token, shaking his hand off of me as I did so.

"What?" I asked heatedly.

"Man, what's with you today?" Token demanded, "You've been like this since this morning."

"I don't want to talk about it, just leave me alone." I turned to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

For however long I've been walking, my body was on autopilot. I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going until before I knew it, I was at Stark's Pond. I plopped down on a nearby bench and stared blankly at the scenery. Like I could see it but I wasn't really seeing it, my eyes were out of focus as I gazed across the pond.

No matter how hard I tried to avoid it, my mind was on Kevin. The way he laid there motionless in the filthy blood spattered stall. There was just so much blood, he looked almost unrecognizable as he was covered head to toe with it. His hair was saturated with it. The metallic stench of the red fluid pervaded over everything. Yet he looked morbidly serene as I frantically rocked back and forth with him in my arms. He was beautiful even in gruesome death; I imagined he died a hero, it would be just like him to go down like Jedi. I placed a quivery chaste kiss on his lips and tasted blood.

I barely remember what happened after I had started screaming for help. All I vaguely remember was being dragged away from Kevin and there being a lot of kicking and screaming on my part. The scenery blurred all around me as I was being whipped about. I caught glimpses of people crowding the hallways as whoever had a hold of me continued to drag me along. Outside, there were flashing lights and wailing sirens, and yet more people. I was oblivious to them all as I continued to scream and sob. At one point, I was tied down to a stretcher and shoved into an ambulance where I was then injected with a sedative.

Then came the police interrogations and the psychiatric evaluations, both of them exceedingly long and tedious processes. Once everyone was convinced that I hadn't contributed to his demise, they left me be to seek out grief counseling. Then one day, I got some shocking news about Kevin.

The paramedics had discovered that he was still alive once they got him in the ambulance and were able to stabilize his condition. He was going to be okay, but was unconscious and had a very long road to recovery ahead of him. But hours later, he went into cardiac arrest, there was nothing the doctors could do. He was pronounced dead, but his body mysteriously disappeared from the morgue overnight. That was the very last thing I had heard about him.

In these moments when I feel like I'm about to lose my mind entirely and never come back, I try to remember what the grief counselor told me. That if thinking about a deceased loved one becomes unavoidable, then try to direct those thoughts into a positive light. To think about something that made me happy about being with Kevin. People are always told when they lose a friend to remember the good times and the pain will lessen. It sounds like a bunch of malarkey, patronizing words to toss about when you have nothing to say or comfort to offer. But it works, it just doesn't work for everyone. For me, it only works when I want it to. That's the key thing about everything having to do with psychology; the advice and techniques that the counselors offer to deal with your problems only work if you let them. I wouldn't admit to this being true if I wasn't desperate to get my mind away from its dark place.

Thinking about Kevin was painful, even the happier memories seemed to drive a knife through my heart. But when I searched my mind, a tiny hint of a smile tugged at my lips when I thought far back to the fourth grade.

My dad owned (and still does) a shoe store at the mall downtown. He had an advertising campaign going on to rake in more costumers. I went with him one day to this studio were a photo shoot was being held for the shoe store ads. There were a lot of people there, a photographer, an art director, and a makeup and wardrobe department. I also remember there being a buffet with tacos! My dad was preoccupied with talking on the phone on his blue tooth headset and overseeing the shoot to really pay me any mind, so I allowed myself to wonder around freely. Needless to say, I made a beeline for the tacos.

Much to my nine year old dismay, one of the caterers swatted my hand away as I reached out to grab a particularly juicy taco. I walked away grumbling angrily to myself.

"Don't feel bad," said a familiar voice, "they won't let me eat tacos either."

I paused in mid stride and turned and looked at the person who spoke.

"Kevin?"

"Hey, Clyde." Kevin replied.

Kevin was sitting in a too-big-for-a-child canvas chair while the makeup artist powdered his face with a large fluffy brush. His feet dangled a good a six inches off the ground, and he swung his legs back and forth while waiting patiently for the lady to finish his makeup. He was wearing some kind of school uniform; a white short sleeve shirt and a pair of navy blue shorts with the black loafers he was supposed to model.

"What are you doing here?" I asked stupidly.

"I'm a model." he said simply.

"Since when?" I couldn't hide the surprise in my voice.

"My sister and I have been doing catalogs since we were babies." He just talks about like it's no big deal, all the while I'm having a total OMFG meltdown. How was it that I was not made aware of this? I started bombarding him with questions.

"Does anyone else at school know? How is it that you can just act like it's no big deal?"

"Uh, no, no one else at school knows." he replied nonchalantly, "And it really isn't that big of a deal. I'm just use to it, this isn't news to me, Clyde." I must've looked slightly crestfallen as he then added, "But you know what kind of photo shoot I would be excited to do? One where I would get to do Star Wars cosplay!"

"Okay, Mr. Han Solo," the makeup lady cheerfully proclaimed, "you're all done. Mr. Wades is waiting for you…"

With that, Kevin hopped out of the chair and started walking towards the set. He passed his sister Esther on the way, who smirked smugly and derisively commented, "Don't knock over any scenery this time."

He stuck his tongue out at her and proceeded to walk over to whom I presumed was Mr. Wades. Seconds later, there was an uproar from the photography crew about one of the models that failed to show up.

"We need to find a replacement and quickly!" exclaimed Mr. Wades.

Then my dad materializes out of nowhere wondering what the hell is going on.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Wades?" My dad says.

"Oh! Mr. Donovan," he replies nervously, "well you see, it appears that one of the models is a no show…"

"I see…" my dad says scratching his chin thoughtfully, "Clyde!"

I started at the sudden exclamation of my name. "What, what, what!" I shouted frantically.

"How would you like to be in the photo shoot?"

Moments later, after being hair dried, powered, dressed, and fitted into a pair of my dad's shoes, I was on the set. They had me sitting next to Kevin on a fake stoop with a backdrop of a school behind us. I was too nervous to do anything except stare wide eyed at the camera, shaking slightly. It worsened as I noticed the annoyed look on the photographer's face. Then I felt a hand lay gently on top of my own.

"Don't worry," said Kevin, "I'll coach you, just follow my lead…"

Everything went better than expected. Throughout the whole shoot after following Kevin's advice, the director and photographer were really happy about the work I did. They kept paying me compliments and giving directions. They said things like, "Good job, Clyde! Nice one! Tilt your head a little more this way…. Beautiful!" I'd be lying if I said I didn't like the attention. Though really, the real star was Kevin. He expertly moved and posed in all the right ways, and he seemed to portray a type of grace. He just shone and I then realized how beautiful he was. His skin was smooth and fair, and his large almond shaped eyes really connected with the camera. I also really liked how his shiny black hair fell just over his eyes and framed his face.

I sighed sadly as I came out of my reverie, and sniffled slightly as silent tears ran down my face. My vision was blurry; I blinked and more tears fell, and I could clearly see the pond in front of me. I became aware of footsteps behind me and looked up at Token as he placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey," he said empathetically, "Want to go to Taco Bell? I'm buying…"


	3. Chapter 3

**Bad News**

Due to an unfortunate computer error, **ALL** fanfictions are now on** PERMENATE **hiatas. I'm very sorry for the inconvience. However, I will continue writing. Perhaps some time next week, I will be back with fresh material. Once again, I apologize this was a very difficult decision of which there was absolutely no choice but to make. Have a good evening and happy writing .

Yours Affectionately,

-A.C. Lucius


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